


Scars

by SlytherinHowl



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gay Albus Dumbledore, M/M, Movie 2: Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald Spoilers, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Sad Albus Dumbledore, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 12:23:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16661108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinHowl/pseuds/SlytherinHowl
Summary: Some scars are visible, some are not. The Mirror of Erised shows them all.





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains spoilers from _that_ scene from Crimes of Grindewald. If you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about, if you haven't, * River Song voice * _spoilers_. This story is somewhat inspired by malfoytheunanxious' _Most Desperate Desires_ (I would include the link if my dumb ass knew how to). It is absolutely brilliant, please check it out!

Albus Dumbledore has a few scars scattered through his body, results of classroom mishaps, accidents, even fistfights. Every now and then, his crooked nose hurts a bit and he feels like dropping by The Hog’s Head Inn just to give his brother Aberforth a resentful smack to the head. He never does, though, as he doesn’t want his nose broken yet another time. Albus doesn’t mind his scars; on the contrary, he often finds it amusing to recall how each of them came to be. He does mind his scarless left palm, smooth and perfect, as if mocking him. He feels the mark that should be there, bright red and tingling with the magic of a blood pact. Albus remembers how the tip of the wand ran through his palm, he remembers the burning sensation of the incantations being placed on his flesh and blood, he remembers Gellert’s palm against his, he remembers closing his eyes in ecstasy and letting the sensations wash over him. He remembers sharing his blood with Gellert Grindewald and thus becoming _more than brothers_. 

He remembers and he regrets, or he wishes to. Albus wishes with all his heart to stand before the Mirror of Erised and see anything but the mismatched eyes staring into his soul. He would rather see young Ariana smiling at him, alive, happy, standing proudly in Hogwarts robes, free from the destructive magic that took hold of her. He would rather see his parents or any other thing that he has ever loved and lost, even Aberforth. Anything but Gellert Grindewald. He doesn’t see those things; no, he stands before the mirror and soon his reflection is replaced by a tall figure with white blond hair, taunting Albus with his small smile. The real Grindewald would not smile as warmly and frankly to anyone. He would not let down his guard and simply _be_.

The first time he found the mirror in a dusty, empty classroom, he thought the blood pact had somehow been undone, and Grindewald had finally come to destroy whatever was left of him. Albus stood glued to the spot, heart racing. The Great Albus Dumbledore, reduced to a trembling mess by Gellert Grindewald. Yet the foreign wizard did nothing but smile and cock his head, so Albus tentatively approached the mirror, casting a few spells on the frame to try to understand what kind of object he was dealing with. When Albus’s eyes scanned the writing on the frame of the mirror, he understood what it was, having read about it in his youth. The professor fell to his knees in despair, refusing to believe the harsh truth his heart was telling him. Gellert’s image crouched down and placed his right hand, his pact hand, on the surface of the mirror, expecting Albus to do the same, yet he could only look at his old lover in bewilderment. Dumbledore fled the room and vouched never to cast his eyes upon that mirror again. 

He did not keep his promise to himself, though, returning to the mirror after weeks of tossing and turning on his bed, desperately wanting to gaze into Gellert’s eyes again but refusing to do so. His aching heart got the best of him, at last, and he shuffled back to the classroom in defeat. It took him a while, but Albus eventually accepted the fact that Gellert would not leave him, the two of them being exact copies of each other and direct opposites at the same time. Both free, peculiar souls, in want of change, of truth, of meaning to themselves, yet fighting at different sides of an ongoing war. Albus finally understood that one night, after hours of suffering in front of his lover’s reflection. A weight was lifted from his shoulder then and he was able to give himself fully to his addiction, he let his darker side flourish. It felt cathartic, therapeutic even, to let the hidden feelings wash over him every now and then. Whenever he leaves, he tells himself never to return, yet the wizard knows he needs to return, he needs the mismatched eyes as a drowning man needs air.

He needs them as the world slowly crumbles; he needs them as Newt Scamander returns from Paris, carrying the small silver token of his pact, asking him about it. He tells his former student that ‘maybe’ he can destroy it, he takes the boy into his room, answers his questions in evasive, Dumbledore fashion, he pets the brave niffler and thanks the creature for bringing back the silver pendant. When they leave, he goes straight to the mirror, his left-hand tingling and pulsating around the pact. Albus reaches the mirror and places his hand on its surface, the pendant still dangling from his fingers. He _sees_ the scar then, as it should be, before it is covered by Gellert’s equally scarred hand. The familiar eyes of the reflection are different today; they’re watering. Gellert looks almost fragile, as if he (or the mirror) knows of Albus’ wish to destroy the pact, to rid himself of this torture. 

The image Albus sees is a dagger to his heart and he weeps, he weeps because he knows he will have to put an end to the real Grindewald’s madness by depriving himself of his last pleasure, the pleasure of his eyes. He doesn’t want him to go, he wants the mirror to absorb him, he wants to cling to his love and hear his voice and feel his body against his. He wants to go back to that summer in Godric’s Hollow when he and Gellert were one, he wants to be joined to Gellert again, yet he knows he can’t, he has to break apart forever. This truth hurts Albus, so he weeps with his forehead resting against the mirror. Before he knows, his lips are pressed against the glass and so are Gellert’s. That strange, unreal kiss makes him hot and cold all at once, trapping him into the mirror’s cruel spell. When he parts from the mirror, lost and despairing, he looks at his smooth palm and he knows why he can’t see the scar: because it is hidden away within himself, keeping together the pieces of his heart.


End file.
